


A Collection of Things

by FalconsQuill



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: FFxivWrite, FFxivWrite 2020, Gen, and some may/may not be fully canon for my wol idk yet, may revisit some of these after the challenge is over
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:55:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 6,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26244526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FalconsQuill/pseuds/FalconsQuill
Summary: Decided to attempt the FFXIVWrite 2020 challenge, which is 1 prompt each day for 30 days. The challenge is to write at least something for each prompt and just see what you come up with. Check out sea-wolf-coast-to-coast on Tumblr if you're interested in joining in!
Kudos: 2





	1. Day 1 – Prompt: Crux

**Author's Note:**

> The first prompt is "crux". Had some trouble figuring out what to go with for this because how often is this word even used? So I decided to go with a more indirect approach and focus on a personal realisation/development instead of some groundbreaking thing: despite everything, he still matters as more than just a title and he is able to be like everyone else. Also, I just had to have some fun (*cough* suffering) with some references to earlier parts of the game in this chapter.

Warrior of Light, Warrior of Darkness, god killer, primal slayer, weapon, friend, enemy, and so, _so_ much else.

The young Miqo’te had been called many titles in recent years, some more accurate than others, others more flattering than some. As the Warrior of Light, he was a hero to Eorzea. But also as the Warrior of Light, he was the murderer of many Garleans, even those unfortunate conscripts who’d had no choice but to enlist.

To the Grand Companies, he was a Maelstrom Captain, sure, but at least some saw him as a mere weapon to be deployed to ensure victory. To some of the beast tribes, he was a friend and a trusted ally, to others he was the murderer of their gods and a bane upon their lives.

To most of the Ascians, he was a relentless obstacle to be obliterated, a danger to their plans. To Elidibus, he was maybe once respected for his commitment, only for them to end up fated to fight to the death. To Emet-Selch, he was… complicated. He was important, he was frustrating, he was steadfast and determined, he was in opposition yet empathetic all the same. In the end, he was enough to be entrusted with remembering Amaurot’s legacy.

So many connections he’d forged, so many people he’d met, so many people he’d killed. And all the titles, all the scorn, all the praise that followed each and every one of his actions… It only ever captured a part of him, never showing the full picture.

When looking at the Miqo’te with brown hair, purple eyes and a purple tattoo on his cheek; with daggers on his belt, long pants, thigh-high boots, and a half-open vest, so many only saw small parts of him exaggerated by the tales.

Only those closest to him really saw him for who he was: Lukas Valentine. Only they knew of his struggles, only they knew of the crushing guilt that kept him awake at 3am, or to all of the regrets that plagued him, or to any of the many times he just _couldn’t_ anymore, and broke down sobbing (and at times wailing) for all those he had lost, for all those he could not save.

He was a young man who’d never asked to be the Warrior of Light or anything else. He’d never wanted to be tasked with saving worlds time and time again until a gods-damned crystal foisted this path upon him. He was only one person, and could only do so much. How many times had he failed to save someone? Failed to uphold the inhuman expectations placed on him, and begged for forgiveness even when he was not at fault?

It had taken him some time to accept his position and his role in everything, to try and be the perfect warrior while being all too aware of just how mortal he was. He wasn’t entirely sure when it happened – what (mis)adventure sparked the change, or what near-death experience provoked him – but he discovered how to turn this unwanted path as Hydaelyn’s Champion into something that he could at least benefit from.

Somehow.

Maybe it was those around him, those closest to him, those he would otherwise have never met or loved so dearly if it hadn’t been for _Her_ influence in his life. After all, they were the ones who made this all bearable, the ones whose hugs and jabs and laughter could make him forget the crushing weight he carried with him – even if for merely a moment.

Sometimes, a moment was enough.


	2. Day 2 - Prompt: Sway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lukas, Ryne, and Gaia wander through the forests of Lakeland, and have some conversations about family both lost and found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought of Lakeland's forests as soon as I saw "sway", and the lore for my WoL in this chapter is canon for him too. He's definitely like their older brother, but he's also making it up as he goes along. I wasn't expecting this to be so long for a one-word prompt, but I decided to run with it until the idea was done.

The wind gently rustled the purple leaves in the forest around them, tugging at their hair. Gazing skyward, Lukas stood transfixed by the shifting canopy, feeling memories just out of reach prodding at his mind. The world fell away as he tried to push farther into his mind, grasping at any threads he could reach, yet they all slipped away.

Snapping out of his reverie, he found Ryne and Gaia standing before him, the former looking up at him (not that he was too much taller) with a determined look in her eyes. From Gaia’s expectant expression, he gathered he’d been asked a question that went unheard.

“Lukas,” Ryne said, “didn’t you hear me?”

“She wants to see if your eyes match the colour of the leaves,” Gaia explained with a huff, but her attention on him betrayed her curiosity.

“Yeah, so look at me!” Ryne demanded.

“How could I refuse such a request,” Lukas decided to humour the girls; they had nowhere pressing to be.

Blue eyes met purple as Lukas and Ryne held each other’s gazes. He’d seen his own eye colour in the mirror countless times but had never thought to see how closely it matched up with Lakeland’s forests. Ryne’s gaze was intense, and he could feel her determination burning into him. It was nice to see her so spirited about something that wasn’t Eden or The Empty, and–

“Lukas!” Ryne once again interrupted his thoughts, “Don’t look away, I almost had my answer!”

“Oh, uh,” Lukas gave a sheepish grin, “Sorry.”

This time, Lukas settled for fidgeting – everything from flicking his ears to swishing his tail – while he awkwardly maintained eye contact. He’d saved multiple worlds from utter destruction many times but struggled to humour one teenager’s request. He could imagine the rest of the Scions (especially Thancred and Y’shtola) having a laugh at that were they to know.

“Alright, I’ve got it!” Ryne declared, finally breaking eye contact to Lukas’s relief, “Lukas, you’re eyes are the same colour as the leaves!”

“Only his eyes?” Gaia commented, eyeing the rest of their subject, “That tattoo and his hair highlights match, too.”

“You’re right, they do,” Ryne gasped, “Lukas, why do you have so much purple?”

“Well, my mother had purple eyes but my dad had slitted pupils, so I got both. The tattoo is also my mother’s design, and my hair is just something I do because it looks cool.”

Lukas didn’t have to wait long for more questions to be fired at him.

“Wait,” Gaia spoke, “I thought Mystel – er, Miqo’te – on the Source were split into two groups. One of them has slitted pupils, and the other has fangs, right?”

“Yep,” Lukas smiled.

“But,” Gaia continued, “you have both?”

“Right again,” Lukas praised, “Sun Seekers and Moon Keepers don’t often get together, but my mother was part of a merchant family so she met my dad while travelling. Mother was a Keeper, and my dad was a Seeker.”

“I see,” Ryne reflected, “Lukas, isn’t your name quite different from other Miqo’te? It’s certainly not like any Mystel name I’ve heard of.”

Lukas (with the help of Thancred and Urianger) had told the two girls a bit about the Source and its recent history with the Calamity, but he’d always stopped short of telling them where he was when it all happened. This time, he decided, he’d explain a bit more.

“Yeah, my name is Hyuran and it was given to me by the woman who raised me,” Lukas began, “My parents weren’t able to look after me, so they left me with her.”

Lukas took the time to explain the hyuran woman who’d raised him, the small village he’d grown up in, and how he’d lost her in the Calamity. He also explained (at length) the lengths he went to in order to survive in the weeks and months following the Calamity, before society had really begun to recover.

“That sounds horrifying,” Ryne echoed when he was finished.

“Lukas,” Gaia hesitated, “Did your parents… survive the Calamity?”

He’d been expecting this question, wondering if he should sugarcoat reality were they to ask. They were still so young. But they’d also done and seen so much despite that.

“No,” Lukas took a breath, “At least, I don’t think they did. I never met them, y’see, and everything I know about them came from the woman who raised me.”

The mood shifted, silence settled in. Gaia shifted, looking uncertain. Ryne’s curiosity left her as she visibly shrunk back. Lukas could almost see the memories plaguing her mind, felt the bitter taste of regret rise like bile in his throat. He’d forgotten how young they were.

“Sorry, I,” Lukas paused, “I shouldn’t have told you all that.”

Ryne shook her head, “It’s not your fault.”

“We were the ones who asked personal questions, so,” Gaia trailed off.

Still, the mood remained unchanged. If he returned them to the Crystarium deflated and quiet, Lukas could only imagine the lectures he’d receive from their dads. When it came to these girls, Thancred and Urianger expected him to be like their older brother, and that was a role Lukas was more than happy to fill. Although, there were times where he had no idea how an older brother was meant to act.

This was one of them.

Before he could give himself a chance to think, Lukas wrapped an arm around each girl’s shoulders, pulling them into a three-way hug (he hoped he didn’t make them bump into each other).

“I’m not gonna say the past doesn’t matter,” Lukas said softly, “but it’s also in the past. That means it’s over and you get to focus on the people around you right now. You each have so many people who care about you, so even if things from the past come back somehow, they’ll help you get through it.”

There was silence for a moment – naught but the wind and dancing leaves – before Ryne spoke, “Thank you, Lukas. But, uh, I think I’m going to fall!”

Lukas stepped back, freeing the girls from his embrace and helping Ryne catch her balance while Gaia pointedly avoided looking at him.

"I wasn't expecting a hug of all things," Ryne remarked.

“Warn us next time before you just hug us out of nowhere like that,” Gaia smoothed out her dress, “...But thanks…”

“Uh, Lukas?” Ryne said, “You know that what you told us also applies to you, right?”

Lukas blinked; he hadn’t intended for his words to be thrown back at him like this, but…

“Yeah, I know.”

“It’s getting late,” Gaia interjected, “We should get back to the Crystarium or Thancred and Urianger are never going to let Lukas hear the end of it.”

“What are you–”

“Oh, no,” Ryne poorly stifled a laugh, looking helplessly at Lukas, “if they find out you made us sad–”

Ryne broke off into a fit of giggles as the realisation dawned on Lukas’s face, much to Gaia’s amusement.

“Come on, no,” Lukas hurried, his blood chilling at the thought of receiving another lecture, “I-I didn’t make you two sad, we were just… discussing some philosophical stuff!”

“I’m surprised you know that word,” Gaia laughed when she earned a very half-hearted scowl from Lukas.

Before Lukas could retort, Ryne spoke up, “How about we don’t tell them you made us sad if you promise to buy each of us one thing that we want from the Musica markets. Whatever we want, you’ll buy it for us.”

Lukas immediately found himself under the expectant gaze of the two girls, both smiling as though they already knew his answer. To their credit, they were right, and they knew how to blackmail a guy.

Lukas played along, acting hesitant, “And you won’t tell them I made you sad?”

He waited for confirmation from both girls, “And you know if the thing you want is a weapon or something, I’m going to have to at least let your dads know?”

Again he got eager nods, so he relented, “Alright, I agree to your terms.”

His defeat earned a cheer from Ryne, and though Gaia was more measured in her joy, his heart swelled as he saw her eyes light up.

As they walked back to the Crystarium, Lukas once again gazed at the swaying leaves, once again feeling old memories lurking just beyond his reach. He let them slip away, though; whatever his original family might have been like, or who they might have been, didn’t matter to him. He already had family to care for, or at least, something close to it.


	3. Day 3 - Prompt: Muster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Way back at the beginning of his journey, Lukas faced something that could only be described as hellfire incarnate. Faint burn scars can still be seen on his palms and parts of his arms to this day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter one because uni work has been hectic lately and this is all I had the energy for. So, I decided to focus on Lukas's early relationship with the Scions, and especially his early perception of Hydaelyn. Even then, she wasn't as benevolent as she seemed. (I will cling to the "Hydaelyn is not purely good and is even a bit cruel" idea for a long time)

As the heat seared at his skin, not even needing the flames to sting, Lukas felt his conviction waver. He was the only one untouched by Ifrit’s influence, and hellfire incarnate still threatened to incinerate his soul regardless.

Thancred wasn’t here and couldn’t help him. Hell, the guy probably didn’t even know where he was now. No aid would come from any other Scion, either. Minfilia had sent him here, but did she know or care that he could end up staring death in the face? He was the Warrior of Light, Hydaelyn’s Chosen, but what if he still died here? What if Hydaelyn chose wrong?

He gripped his daggers to the point his hands ached, anguished that he didn’t have better gear. How was he meant to survive? How would cheap blades ever hope to pierce Ifrit’s raging heart? He was just one person, how was he supposed to overcome this? What sort of bullshit had he stumbled into? All he wanted was adventure, not… not _this_!

“Thou shalt die here, mortal!” Ifrit roared, sending a wave of searing heat pulsing from its body.

The beast fell upon him quickly – too quickly – and Lukas felt his arms burn and blister at its mere proximity. It had yet to even blast him with its flames, or rend him with its blazing claws. He was going to die.

_You will fight._

He parried Ifrit’s slash before he could think. His blades emitted a subtle glow where would-be cracks were desperate to form. He looked at Ifrit again, noted its sliced claw. His palms seared as the daggers soaked in the heat from another heatwave as Ifrit howled in defiance. He did not think about his skin burning – _could not_ think about how badly he was already injured.

There was no other choice.


	4. Day 4 - Clinch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After barely killing Ifrit, Lukas and Minfilia discuss terms surrounding his employment with the Scions. (Continues on from Day 2 - Muster).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a day late because some stuff happened irl, but here it is now. Fun fact: even though Lukas was able to get the help of other adventurers with the Echo from here on out, he still almost drowned when he went up against Leviathan. (This chapter is also how I'm explaining the Light and Full parties from in-game).

The bandages clung tight to his arms, and the gauze taped to his cheek was as irritating as hell. His palms were also wrapped tight, a numbing ointment applied to the blistered skin beneath. Y’shtola’s healing had served to minimise the immediate damage of the burns, but it would be at least a week before they were fully healed, and he’d been warned that there could still be light scarring anyway. Lukas just hoped that the tattoo on his face wasn’t damaged as he tuned back into whatever Minfilia was saying.

“...that this happened to you, and that you were injured so grievously against a foe most powerful,” Genuine regret dimmed her eyes, and had since she saw the bandages on his arms.

Lukas took a breath, hoping to avoid channelling his feelings the wrong way or throwing them at the wrong person.

“Look, Minfilia,” he began, “I was not prepared for fighting Ifrit. My daggers only killed it because Hydaelyn Herself made sure they would, and they shattered immediately after.”

“Yes, and I am most grateful for Her intervention to protect you,” Minfilia said.

_She just couldn’t afford to lose Her Champion_ , Lukas grimaced internally, “My point is that I was beyond unprepared for that fight, and I almost died for it. I can’t fight Primals alone, it’s suicide.”

“You need to!” Minfilia cried out, before remembering herself, “You must, Lukas. You have been gifted with the Echo and are immune to their influence. You’re one of the only ones who can.”

“I still don’t know what this whole gods-damned Echo even is!” Lukas snapped, “I don’t know why I was chosen or why I’ve been given this thing, and I’m just an adventurer, Minfilia!”

“Hydaelyn chose you because She has need of your strength,” Minfilia started.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but I almost died to Ifrit,” Lukas stressed, “I’m not strong, I’m just another adventurer. The next Primal I’m thrown at, I’ll die. That Echo-thing doesn’t make me immortal. I’m not fighting Primals.”

Silence seeped into the room as Minfilia pondered Lukas’s words with a look of… melancholy? Regret? He couldn’t be sure, but his own determination remained unwavering. He would help people, sure, but not at the cost of his own life. Not when sacrificing his life would do nothing in the end.

As Minfilia gazed upon the broken staff framed on the wall (Lukas wondered if it was important somehow), she spoke, “Lukas, someone needs to deal with the Primals. The Scions do everything we can to prevent summonings, but the Primals that are summoned must be dealt with, and you are one of the few who can do it.”

Lukas pinned his ears back, a snarl forming on his lips as his tail lashed behind him, “ _I’ve already told you–_ ”

Minfilia raised a hand, but it was the regret that lingered in her eyes even now that stopped him, “I have an idea. Please, listen.”

Lukas narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms only to wince at the pain and settle for tucking his hands into his pockets.

“You are not the only one blessed with the Echo, though yours is particularly potent,” Minfilia began, “And you have battle experience as an adventurer so you are capable of fighting.”

“What’s the point? I’m not gonna be sweet-talked into dying for your cause,” Lukas growled.

“I don’t want you to die,” Minfilia stated, earning a scoff from one irritated Miqo’te, “so what if the Scions managed to track down other adventurers with the Echo? We recruit them as well, and you fight Primals together to maximise your success.”

Lukas remained silent for a minute, weighing Minfilia’s words, “You’ll need to find people who can take hits and not come out half-dead, and also a healer or two or we’ll all die, and people who can kill the things quickly enough before the Primals kill us.”

Minfilia regarded Lukas, “And if the Scions do this, will you agree to fight Primals?”

“...Yes,” Lukas relented, noting the relief spreading over Minfilia’s features, “Is that all? I wanna go and rest if we’re done.”

“Yes, we’re done,” Minfilia watched as Lukas turned to leave, “Thank you, Lukas.”

Luksa gave a half-hearted wave that ended in a wince at he left the room, only to find the rest of the Scions gathered on the other side of the door.

“Do you all have business with her?” Lukas asked after a moment, unsure if he was offended that they’d been eavesdropping or not.

“Oh, no,” Tataru spoke up, “We were just… concerned for your injuries, yes!”

That Lalafel couldn’t lie to save her life, Lukas noted, but found he didn’t have the energy to argue.

“Whatever, I’m gonna go rest,” Lukas continued past them, feeling aches set in all over his body.

“Lukas,” Y’shtola called, “I’ll come by later and do another round of healing.”  
The only response she got from him was a soft hum before he disappeared around the corner.

“Thancred,” Y’shtola turned to him, noting his especially-dejected appearance, “I don’t think he blames you for this.”

“I should have still been there, I could have helped him,” Thancred insisted.

“You would have been corrupted by Ifrit with the rest of them,” Y’shtola countered, “Lukas knows that. He understands that we’re not immune to their influence, and that’s why he only agreed to keep fighting after Minfilia said we’d find other adventurers with the Echo.”

“Still, I want to make it up to him.”

“Well,” Y’shtola said, “my healing can only do so much for those burns. The ointment for the pain needs to be applied directly to the wound, so you can talk to him while you do that.”

“That’s… not a bad idea,” Thancred sighed, “Thank you, Y’shtola.”


	5. Day 5 - Matter of Fact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Set after 5.3, though only one line is a proper spoiler. Soft WoLxGraha/GrahaxWoL is present in this one, too.
> 
> It's not that Lukas hasn't had hard mornings or difficult times before, or even that he's endured hell time and time again. It's more like, despite all the times someone has helped him through it, he always seems to eventually end up right back there, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lukas has scars, physically, emotionally, and mentally. He's been through a lot, and even when he seems fine, there's always a whisper of doubt somewhere in his mind. I, the writer, have also struggled with body image (more along the lines of gender dysphoria) and poor mental health, so I quite vaguely drew from some of my own experiences and also the type of support and people I hope I can have in my life one day.

Lukas found himself held in place by the mirror, his gaze trapped and darting from one scar to the next. He vaguely remembered he was supposed to be getting ready for the day, but instead he was standing there in his underwear, with his clothes off somewhere to the side. How many times had he lost himself in the memories each scar held? How many hours had he lost when his mind just went blank and the scars were all he could see?

“Lukas?” Raha’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine!” Lukas blurted out, taking a steadying breath as he felt Raha’s arms wrap around his waist.

“But are you, my warrior?” From their time on the First, Raha knew how well that epithet worked on him, even in innocent situations like this one.

“It’s,” Lukas glanced away, unable to meet Raha’s gaze in the mirror, “It’s the scars. _Again_. I know– I shouldn’t be–”

Lukas trailed off as he felt Raha press a soft, gentle kiss to the back of his neck, while his fingers found the particularly large scar on the side of his abdomen, where an axe had got him really good – well, badly. That scar, especially, was numb and sensations were dull there, but even so, Lukas still felt the gentle warmth as Raha tenderly caressed his skin.

“I’ll tell you as many times as I need to, my warrior,” Raha muttered against Lukas’s neck, making the other Miqo’te shiver, “These scars you wear are proof of your strength and your convictions.”

Lukas swallowed, finding no words could pass his lips right now. Instead, he settled for resting his hands on Raha’s own as the Raha traced soft, soothing patterns on his skin. When Raha guided him over to the bed and sat behind him, pressed up against him, Lukas followed. As Raha embraced him from behind, Lukas realised that he was only half-dressed. But he was grateful for that skin-to-skin contact, that Raha could find comfort embracing him even with that long, thin scar from a sword running diagonally from his shoulder almost to his hip.

“Your scars don’t diminish your beauty, and they don’t undermine anything about you,” Raha continued in a soothing voice, humming contentedly when Lukas reached back and started stroking his red hair.

The two stayed like that for several minutes, one trying to help the other come out of the trappings of his mind. Every so often, Raha paid attention to a different scar, tracing soft fingers over it, silently conveying his words.

After some time, Raha spoke again, “Are you well, my warrior?”

“I…” Lukas tensed, trailing off, feeling guilt sink into his heart. For all Raha’s gentle encouragement, his mind still whispered of its own perception of the world and himself.

“That’s quite alright, Lukas,” Raha planted another soft kiss on his lover’s neck, “As a matter of fact, the others aren’t expecting us for a few more hours, and I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if we were a bit late.”

Relief fluttered in Raha’s chest as he felt the exhale of a wannabe-laugh from Lukas.

“We can stay here as long as you need, my dear warrior.”


	6. Day 6 - Writer's Choice: Day Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even the Warrior of Light manages to get a day off every once in a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very short one today because I've been busy with assignments and getting new glasses. Also, a prompt that's entirely my own choice made it harder to figure out what to write.

The rain ran down the window, blanketing the Mist housing ward in, well, mist. Lukas leaned into his soft lounge, resting his head near the windowsill and letting the rain take all thoughts away with it. It was rare he got a chance to simply do nothing, so he was more than content to let the day tick by. His house wasn’t the most furnished or decorated – where was the Warrior of Light meant to find the time for that? – but it was his. He could come here whenever he had the time and just leave the problems of the world at the door. There were never enough of these moments.


	7. Day 7 - Prompt 8: Clamour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Warrior of Light can't attend the Moonfire Faire *and* manage to sneak away from the festivities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is prompt 8 of FFXIVWrite 2020 because I missed prompt 7 because life got busy, and it's 11pm as I upload this. TImezones also make it so that the 24 hour deadline is at 4am ;-; But it's something, and I'll catch up on prompt 7 on Sunday.

The evening sun slowly waned in its intensity, giving way to the pleasantly warm night ahead, and leaving the last of its dying light to dance on the soft waves of Costa del Sol. The flickering glows from various lanterns and the abnormally large, tamed Bomb provided a visual representation of the multiple sources of music scattered across the beach. Somehow, Lukas had managed to find himself a darker and quieter spot than most, away from the main hype of the festivities. Several couples relatively nearby had also shared his idea, but at least they were considerate enough to wait until it was much darker before… escalating matters.

After a while, he spotted Alphinaud and Alisaie making their way over to him, a mischievous look on even Alphinaud’s face. A feeling of not-quite-dread formed in Lukas’s stomach as the two drew near.

“Lukas,” Alisaie declared, “we need you to do that dance again! It’s a matter of the utmost importance.”

“And what’s the pressing issue?” Lukas inquired.

“Since there are more people here now, some missed out on your earlier performance, and they’re dying to see the Warrior of Light control a Bomb by dancing,” Alphinaud said.

Lukas glanced at his outfit, lavender purple in colour: the high-slitted pareo that fortunately maintained some of his dignity, and the taffeta shawl he now wore in place of the “top” he’d been provided. 

“Yeah, I’m _sure_ they want to see that dance because of the Bomb,” Lukas remarked dryly, though he couldn’t deny that some part of him urged him to leap at the chance anyway.

“Come on, Lukas,” Alisaie tugged him to his feet, “Best not to keep your adoring fans waiting!”

Lukas gave a helpless look between the two, but quickly allowed that to give way to a nervous anticipation as he was led back to the main crowd. There was no arguing with the twins once they set their sights on something, but he could find no reason to deny them their fun at his expense, and it wouldn’t hurt to at least do something to maintain his public image, either.


	8. Day 8 - Prompt 9: Lush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lukas sometimes goes to Gridania, though he's not too fond of the place. He's not sure if he's searching for answers or not, but he finds himself back here every so often, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter examines a bit of Gridania and their general attitude, including racism against Keepers and Duskwights, the whole "obey the Elementals above all else", and the "remove Padjal children from their parents to make them become Seers" stuff. If you can't tell, I don't like Gridania(ns) much because of that. I'm not saying the other city-states don't have their own issues (they certainly do), but Gridania puts forth an image of being this paradise that is simply a lie, and that's why I just don't enjoy it that much.

Though he much preferred the warm sea breezes and salty air of Limsa, Lukas still found himself in Gridania on relatively rare occasions, and he couldn’t say he wholly disliked the place. He had to admit, the Shroud was beautiful and he enjoyed the idea of dense trees and thick, clustered vines just daring any adventurer to seek out whatever secrets they might hide.

However, he tended to avoid Gridania. As nice as its shaded boughs were, and as gentle as the swaying branches could be, it simply couldn’t beat the vice-grip that Limsa held on his adventurous heart.

...That, and he couldn’t stand a good amount of the people who called Gridania home. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d seen Miqo’te and Elezen (particularly Moon Keepers and Duskwights) earn the scorn of Gridania’s citizens simply for… existing, usually. Some particularly hateful souls had even targeted him, thinking him to be a Keeper from a distance, only to be thoroughly perplexed once they saw both his Seeker and Keeper traits up close. One especially hateful person he encountered never even cared for the distinction between Seekers and Keepers and took issue with any Miqo’te unfortunate enough to exist near him. To top it off, many Gridanians were quick to blame Keepers and Duskwights for all their problems, especially if a problem was nobody’s fault but their own.

Lukas remembered the times he’d seen the sick and injured turned away from receiving any help at all, purely because “the Elementals willed it” or whatever the latest Elemental bullshit was. There was one time during his White Mage training with the Padjals where the Elementals had turned away the father of a sick girl because the Elementals had supposedly decided that she was to die. The Padjals weren’t pleased when they found out that Lukas used his Scholar healing arts to save the girl’s life, and started lecturing him about how it was important to obey the Elemental’s will if they wanted to live safely in the Shroud. Lukas tuned out of that lecture pretty early.

Lukas remembered Gatty, and how she was to be separated from her mother to become a Seer, as all Padjals before her had been, because that was apparently all Padjals were allowed to be. That had happened in a way, regardless, but that was yet another thing that Lukas found very off-putting about Gridania. Beneath the veneer of an idyllic and lush forest, there hid so many horrific people and disgusting abuses. Not many seemed to notice or care, and the few who did were often shunned with all the rest.

Apparently Gridania had been his mother’s home, and the tattoo on his cheek was a design from her family, as was Keeper culture. Yet, no matter how much he wandered Gridania, no one ever seemed to notice the design, other than that it was definitely of Keeper origin. Some then followed that up with confusion regarding Lukas’s slitted pupils, which he usually took as his cue to end the conversation. He wasn’t entirely sure if he was looking for answers about his family here. He wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted or cared to know. His parents were dead and he’d never met them. Why would he care about two dead people who didn’t even care enough to raise their own child? And yet, every once in a long while, he found himself wandering through Gridania, seeking out anyone friendly enough, and asking questions.

He wasn’t sure why.


	9. Day 9 - Prompt 10: Avail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~5.3 Major Spoilers~
> 
> Everyone on the Convocation knows how much Azem and Hythlodaeus complement each other in their schemes, and Emet-Selch is more aware of this fact than most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the recent Tales From the Shadows and Azem basically confirmed to be the original/pre-sundered Warrior of Light, I just had to write something about that. My Azem shares several similarities with Lukas: purple eyes, the same tattoo on their left cheek, and a love for sweet food. Makes you wonder how much stuff could possibly be mere coincidence, doesn't it?
> 
> (This was also a day late and I've decided this one's going to be the extra credit/make-up one I submit on Sunday because I like it more than the other prompt)

Emet-Selch hovered by the ornate, oaken doors that led to one of the many conference rooms used by various societies and committees that governed various areas and disciplines of Amaurot. Being the committee with the most authority (and more members than most), the Convocation usually got the largest rooms. Some theorised that another reason the Convocation met in the biggest rooms was in case the arguing got too intense; at least there was an equally large table splitting the room in half. Emet-Selch had always scoffed at that idea. Yes, members of the Convocation didn’t always see eye to eye, but all their disputes remained purely verbal. However, words could still sting and Emet-Selch was preparing a fine list of choice remarks for when he saw one particular Amaurotine when he spotted their partner in crime walking down the hall.

“Hythlodaeus,” Emet-Selch called, “Have you a minute?”

The Amuarotine in question turned around with a carefree smile beneath his mask, “Anything for you, my friend.”

“Where is Azem? The meeting starts soon and they’re not here.”

Hythlodaeus hummed for a moment, his smile changing ever so slightly – anyone unfamiliar with this tall-yet-graceful person would have missed the air of mischief that now surrounded him.

“Hm, I don’t know where they are,” Hythlodaeus finally responded.

Oh, he _most certainly_ knew.

“Come now,” Hythlodaeus noted his friend’s scowl, “You can’t expect me to keep an eye on them all the time. Azem has their ways of sneaking off and showing up when it’s most convenient.”

“And will it be ‘convenient’ anytime remotely soon?” Emet-Selch stifled a sigh.

“Hm,” Hythlodaeus trailed off again, “Actually, yes!”

Emet-Selch turned when Hythlodaeus pointed behind him, only to find a shorter-than-average Amaurotine strolling up to them, stuffing the last of some sweet pastry in their mouth as they walked. From underneath their mask, part of a purple tattoo of their own design could be seen on their cheek.

“And _where_ have you been?” Emet-Selch asked.

“Well, you see,” Azem cleared their throat, “You know that bakery down in the markets? The one with the most awesome sweets?”

“You’ve only told me about it a million times,” Emet-Selch said.

Azem grinned, “So there were these kids that were there, but they were there before me and they bought the same thing I was going to get, so I had to wait for the baker to make more. And that’s why I’m…”

Azem checked their watch, only to falter when they realised they didn’t have one, “Hopefully not late!”

“You _are_ late, Azem,” Emet-Selch sighed, “If you think you’re on time, then you’re actually 5 minutes late. How many times must I tell you that?”

“Well,” Azem laughed awkwardly, “I don’t know how many times it’ll take for me to remember, so…”

Emet-Selch could imagine their purple eyes under their mask avoiding his stern gaze. With a sigh, he turned back to Hythlodaeus, who didn’t wipe the amused look off his face fast enough for it to be hidden.

“Look, Hyth,” Emet-Selch dropped his stern facade for a second, “I know you tend to enable all of… this–”

“You just gestured to all of me,” Azem interjected.

“–but please do try to keep them on task.”

“I’ll be sure to keep them out of harm’s way,” Hythlodaeus stated.

“That’s good,” Emet-Selch noted Hythlodaeus’s satisfied grin, “Wait, you know that _wasn’t_ what I was asking.”

Emet-Selch could think of no more mischievous pair of Amaurotines than these two. No others even came close to the stunts they pulled.

With another sigh, Emet-Selch relented, “Come along, Azem. You’re going to explain to the rest of the Convocation why we’re both now late.”

“Aw, come on,” Azem complained, only half-serious, “It’s basically tradition at this point.”

“Have fun doing whatever it is the Convocation does in there,” Hythlodaeus called after the pair.

Azem turned and gave a wave before they followed Emet-Selch into the conference room. Sure enough, they were the last to arrive, and as Azem predicted, nobody was surprised (though Lahabrea was certainly irritated).


	10. Day 10 – Prompt 11: Ultracrepidarian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lukas isn't opposed to receiving guidance or advice. ...Unless said advice comes from someone obviously unqualified to give it. Still, he turns it into a learning experience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back on task with keeping up with the prompts again! I know I don't have to write much each day, but it's still a challenge to keep up with the daily things sometimes, but it's also fun.

Lukas had decided to do some training with the more stealthy members of the Maelstrom’s military, having been asked to show them how one as adept in the shadows as he was operated. He’d been more than happy to help out, having worked his way up to Captain in his own right (though his status as Warrior of Light meant it was more of a half part-time thing).

However, Lukas wasn’t sure when this arrogant, self-assured asshole showed up and started offering his ‘insight’ on even Lukas’s own techniques. Lukas was willing to learn and adapt his fighting style as needed, but he had Jacke and Oboro (and also Karasu, he supposed), as well as Yugiri, to help him with that. He _most certainly_ didn’t need ‘assistance’ or ‘advice’ from some random person he’d never met, who so far had done no more than stand on the sidelines with a shite-eating grin.

Lukas finally turned to the guy, a bit of the Lominsan dialect slipping into his words as he growled, “Since you’re so knowledgable, how ‘bout you an’ me ‘ave a go?”

The man sputtered, “B-But, you’re the bloody Warrior of Light, I can’t fight you!”

“A’right, then,” Lukas stalked over to the nearby cart and picked out two pairs of wooden daggers, “That’s safer, isn’t it?”

“Well, I,” the man hesitated.

“Come on, _mate_ ,” Lukas goaded, his eyes narrowing as his frustration increased, “It’ll be a good chance for you to teach them _and_ me what you know, since you’re obviously an expert on this stuff.”

The man slowly approached Lukas, reaching for his pair of wooden daggers as if they would bite him. Satisfied, Lukas backed up a few films, before settling into the fighting stance oh, so familiar to him. The other man swallowed and tried to mimic him, and by Hydaelyn, was this going to be a sorry show.

In the afternoon when the training was over, the soldiers Lukas had spent the day with each came up to him and offered their thanks, some of them laughing at his extra ‘lesson’, others trying hard to hide their amusement. Lukas was just glad that they’d managed to increase their knowledge and broaden their horizons – and get some amusement from watching him knock another guy flat on his ass in 5 seconds flat.


	11. Day 11 - Prompt 12: Tooth and Nail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Warrior of Light is powerful, able to take on many opponents and come out almost unscathed. Those with power have of course taken notice, and they are determined to make the best use of his abilities. He is a gift from Hydaelyn, why should Her gift not be used to its fullest extent?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some people are only focused on how they can use others to meet their own ends, and if you can control the Warrior of Light, you will be nigh unstoppable. Who's perspective is this from? I don't know, but I do know of a few people who would think of the Warrior of Light like this (namely several governmental and Grand Company officials). Some people also don't give the Warrior of Light enough credit.

While much of the talk surrounding the Warrior of Light was filled with admiration and praise, some of it was a bit more… _cautious_ , in a sense. All who knew of the Warrior or Light knew of how powerful he was, and how he was able to take on many opponents at once and come out almost unscathed. The stories of his prowess that impressed and awed so many in Eorzea also stirred unease in the hearts of those more cautious than others.

No one could deny that Lukas Valentine was a fierce fighter, and that you could have no better ally than him. Despite that, there were stories about some of his especially challenging fights. Those who’d fought beside him on such occasions spoke of how he would get almost… feral, in a sense. It was as though, at that moment, all that mattered was defeating the enemies before him, regardless of his actual orders or any strategy. Were it anyone else pulling such feats, they would surely be dead.

It was no small secret that despite the Warrior of Light’s relatively small stature, he was sometimes seen with a greatsword taller than he was strapped awkwardly to his back. Dark knights weren’t exactly unheard of – though they were more often regarded as children’s tales – but rumours whispered of Lukas’s especially potent dark arts.

Some claimed to have witnessed the Warrior of Light take lethal blows and somehow survive. Others claimed that he could manifest a being made from shadow that fought alongside him and shared his ferocity, two halves of a whole. There were also a few unverified claims that people had witnessed shadows coalescing around the Warrior of Light, even when he was fighting with daggers instead of a greatsword, so potent are his dark arts.

One thing was certain: everyone who fought alongside him was grateful that they were his ally, and they almost found themselves pitying to poor fools he cut down before him. Most admired the Warrior of Light for his accomplishments. Others regarded him with caution.

At least the Warrior of Light has yet to notice the scorn with which some view him. At least he doesn’t see himself as the monster many of us see him as. He thinks he's normal, just like anyone else. So long as he remains clueless, he remains within our control. He is powerful, he is a weapon given to us by Hydaelyn herself. We would be fools to squander this gift bestowed upon us by Her. All weapons must be used if they are to be effective, and so we must use him to the full extent of his abilities. To do anything less would be a waste.


End file.
